


Numbers Are A Bitch

by words_reign_here



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, M/M, Multilingual Derek, Nurse Derek, Patient Stiles, Top Stiles, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_reign_here/pseuds/words_reign_here
Summary: “It's major surgery, Stiles.” Scott said and leaned forward. “We can be worried if we want to.”Stiles frowned at him, feeling chastised.“But you're doing a good thing.” Allison said. She was still holding his hand. “You'll be great.” She added.Scott looked betrayed.Lydia took a picture of him in the bed.





	1. Pre-Op

**Author's Note:**

> You all had to expect this. When I said that I was going to be out for awhile because I was giving a kidney away, you had to at least think somewhere think, "She's gonna fic this isn't she?"  
> Yeah, she did.  
> Chapters 1 & 2 are pretty much spot on what happened to me but Chapter 3 is completely made up. 
> 
> ...don't hit on your nurses. Just... don't, guys. This is fiction.

Scott blinked and looked down at his hands.

He looked at Stiles and then out the window of their shared apartment and then back at Stiles.

Scott was on the couch and Stiles was sitting across from him, their knees practically touching and Stiles was staring at him earnestly.

“Are you sure?” Scott asked slowly.

“More sure than anything I have ever been in my entire life.” Stiles said confidently. Scott knew his friend pretty well by now. Twenty five years of friendship and he could read Stiles like an open book.

He was sure, all right.

He was also terrified.

“He won't go for it.” Scott countered. “He's said it a dozen times.”

Stiles shrugged. “I'm donating a kidney. I want it to go to my dad but if he refuses, then they can find a use for it.”

“He's going to kill you.” Scott said.

“ _Two free kidneys.”_ Stiles whispered and leaned forward, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Don't joke. This is serious.” Scott snapped.

“Dude, I know. Believe me. I'm the one getting sliced and diced here.” Stiles said and leaned back. That terrified-but-determined look was back. “But he's dying. Right in front of me.”

Scott pressed his lips together and nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, right now, I need you to help me get in shape.” Stiles let out a puff of breath. “And afterwards, I need you to take care of me.”

Scott nodded. “I can do that.”

~*~

Stiles didn't tell his dad that he was getting tested as a match for donation. He wasn't stupid. His dad had said a dozen times that he didn't want Stiles to donate. It was too risky, there was too much at stake, he was an old man, he had lived his life.

But science and Scott were on his side and with that combination, Stiles would not be deterred.

There were a half dozen tests, vials upon vials of blood, he peed in so many cups he wondered if he should just bring his own portable one around. He ran three miles a day, stopped drinking alcohol altogether, stuck to tea, coffee, and water, and even Lydia commented on how good he was looking.

Finally, _finally_ , after a month, Dr. Deaton called him in to his office.

Stiles sat in one chair and Scott sat next to him.

“So I have your results back.” Deaton said slowly, as though there was all the time in the world. “And health-wise, you are healthy as a horse. Everything looks in top condition.”

“And as far as being a match?” Stiles urged. He knew he was healthy. Every single medical person he met had told him so.

Deaton met his eyes and gave him a soft smile. “Yes, Stiles. You are a perfect match for your father.”

Stiles let out a breath and it wheezed out of his lungs in a whistle. He slumped in his chair and rubbed his forehead. “Thank _fuck_.” He said. Scott squeezed his shoulder and gave him a bright smile.

“So you want to proceed?” Deaton said.

“Yeah.” Stiles said and his voice cracked. He nodded. “Yeah, let's keep going.”

Deaton nodded. “The next step is to tell your father.”

Stiles nodded.

“I can call him-” Deaton said and his eyes slid to the phone.

“No. No, I'll tell him.” Stiles said.

Deaton nodded. “Sooner the better. This is a time sensitive matter.”

“Yeah.” Stiles said and stood. “I'll tell him.”

Deaton glanced between the two of them. “Any questions?”

“Do you think I'll get my own room?” Stiles asked, half joking.

“Donors always get their own room.” Deaton said seriously. “It's the least we can do.”

“Awesome.”

~*~

“No.”

“Dad-” Stiles started.

“I said _no_ , Stiles. That's it.” John stood up and Melissa and Stiles exchanged a look. But Stiles wasn't so easily shaken. He ran after his father and they ended up in the kitchen.

“Dad.” Stiles said evenly and let his breath out in one huff. “Dad.” He repeated and scrubbed at his neck.

It had been two and a half years since John had gone on dialysis because of end stage renal failure due to type two diabetes and words like “ports” and “fistula” and “hemodialysis ” made their home on Stiles' tongue. His father suffered from water retention, from constant headaches, and exhaustion all the time. He was hot all the time and he couldn't taste food anymore. His vision was getting worse and Stiles was fed up.

“I can't watch you die anymore.” Stiles said and he felt Scott's hand on his back. “I watched mom die, I'm not watching you die too. Not when I can do something about it.”

His dad looked like Stiles just reached out and slapped him across the face.

“That's not fair.” He countered.

“Making me helpless like this isn't fair either.” Stiles countered.

“There is always cadaver donation-” John started.

“Four hundred and sixty eight thousand people are on dialysis.” Stiles said. “Of those, one hundred and twenty _thousand_ are waiting for a transplant. Dad, you aren't even in the middle of that list. You are somewhere closer to the bottom.” Stiles sucked in a deep breath. “Every year, only seventeen thousand people receive a transplant. Some of those are from living donors and some are from cadavers. Every day, thirteen people die waiting for a kidney. The number of people who need a kidney rises at a rate of eight percent a year. Every year on dialysis shortens your lifespan by five years.” Stiles paused and let the numbers sink in. “Dr. Deaton told both of us that you have less of a chance of rejecting a kidney if it comes from a living donor. And those chances go down even further if the donor is related to you. The numbers are a bitch, dad. But they aren't wrong.”

John shook his head. “No, I can't do this to you.”

“What? Kidney failure? There is such a small chance of that happening, dad, its unreal. Not if I am healthy and keep a reasonable diet. And, worst case scenario, I do go into kidney failure, guess what happens to me?” Stiles said. He didn't wait for an answer before he plowed on, “I go to the top of the national registry list. But like I said, probably won't happen because the majority of donors live a longer life than non-donors.”

Melissa shot a look at him, frowning. “How is that-”

“No idea.” Stiles said with a shrug. “But some paper was published by a person by the name of Fehrman-Ekholm and they did a study and found that donors live longer. They studied over four hundred donors over a thirty year period and their results were replicated. Some scientists say that its because donors are healthier but there are some people that say that its because of the altruistic act-” Stiles waved his hand around, “That isn't the point! Donors live longer and healthier lives, and if their other kidney goes, they go to the top of the national registry list to receive the next available kidney. That's my point!”

Melissa, Scott, and Stiles turned to face John. John looked at Stiles and there was something in his eyes that Stiles couldn't put a word to. It was gratitude and love and pride and it made Stiles' heart constrict painfully.

“All right.” John said and his shoulder slumped. “Ok, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Stiles said and he felt such a wave of relief that he thought he might cry.

John nodded. “When?”

“June fifteenth.” Stiles said.

John looked at the calendar on the wall next to him. “That's five weeks from today.”

Stiles nodded.

“And Stiles missed his run this morning.” Scott said, eyeing Stiles. “We gotta go.”

“Shit.” Stiles muttered.

~*~

It was three in the morning when Stiles, Scott, Melissa, and John all piled in John's SUV. Scott and Stiles had stayed the night, just to make the transportation easier. Stiles slid behind the wheel and Scott took over the radio as he pointed the vehicle north to the hospital.

Melissa and John held hands in the backseat and under any other circumstance, Stiles and Scott would have mocked them. But it was too delicate right now, everything was too small and too big all at once and it felt like they were balancing on a knife's edge.

Scott looked over at Stiles and caught his eye. He raised an eyebrow.

_You ready?_

Their silent way of conversing had been perfected years ago, long before even their parents married.

Stiles smiled at Scott and inclined his head.

The ride was silent.

~*~

Stiles and John checked in and the polite woman at front desk directed them to a waiting area. Scott settled himself in a chair with everyone's bags around him and gave Stiles a bright smile. Stiles smiled back and felt slightly nauseous.

“All right, let's take you all back to pre-op waiting room.” A woman said, her father trailing behind her.

They all followed the woman down the hall and Stiles felt the irrational urge to grab Scott's hand like he used to do when they were eight years old and watching horror movies they really shouldn't be watching.

Scott carried everyone's bag and settled in once again. Melissa and John held hands as the nurse explained to them that Stiles would be in surgery for about three hours and post-op for about another four. During this time they would not be able to see him.

“But, we won't put you under, sir, until we are able to give you word that Stiles is fine.” The nurse continued.

John nodded and looked a little relieved. They signed some more paperwork and the nurse left, only to be replaced by Lydia and Allison.

Allison looked a little worried, a little tired. It was four in the morning, after all.

Lydia looked like she had just gotten out of the makeup chair.

Stiles sighed.

“Melissa, I brought you and Scott breakfast.” Lydia said and set a picnic basket down and began unloading it. “Don't bother with that coffee they serve. It's horrendous. Mom had gallbladder surgery last year and- just believe me.” Lydia continued and handed Melissa a paper cup that smelled like the gods themselves had made a pot of coffee. Allison pushed past her and threw her arms around Stiles.

“You are so brave.” She said and her voice cracked.

“Uh...” Stiles said eloquently. He patted her on the back before she let go of him and sat down next to Scott who handed her a tissue.

“Stilinski!” The nurse called. “The- uh, donor.” He looked down at his paperwork, unable to figure out Stiles' name.

Stiles smirked and Allison hugged him again.

Lydia waved him away, “I'll be up to see you in a few.”

His father gathered him up in a hug. “I'll see you up there, son.”

Stiles followed the nurse.

~*~

“This is extremely brave of you.” The nurses assistant commented as she laid out his gown and the wipes that Stiles was supposed to clean himself with.

“Oh. Well, you know. I kinda like the guy. I'd like to keep him around as long as possible.” Stiles said in an offhand manner. The room was cold and bright and the sheets on the bed were painfully white.

The nurses assistant smirked and nodded. She left and pulled the curtain behind her close.

Stiles opened the first wipe and began to wipe his arms and shoulders and his chest. Goosebumps rose up on his skin with every swipe and he felt uncomfortably sticky. He threw it away and continued on until he was completely clean. Then he pulled the gown on and sat down. He laid down and looked up at the ceiling and saw a rabbit in the water stain above him. He looked at the remote, considered it, discarded the idea. It would be like turning on cartoons during church.

Now was not the time.

There was a knock at the “door” and Stiles called out for the person to come in.

An older woman with shockingly blonde hair and a sweet smile peeked her head in. “Stilinski?”

“The younger, yeah, that's me.” Stiles waved.

“How do I say your first name?” She asked as she pushed a small cart in and settled into a chair next to him.

“No idea.” Stiles shrugged and the nurse laughed.

“What can I call you?” She said.

“Stiles.” He said and let out a breath. Something inside of him relaxed. This was the right thing to do, this was what he needed to do, for his dad and his very tiny family. They all called him Stiles and when he woke up, they would call him Stiles and the next day and the day after that and the day after that.

“All right, Stiles. Let's get you hooked up.” She said and her smile was gentle. She prodded at his arms until she found a vein on the side of his wrist. He looked away as she slid the needle in and let out a breath when he felt her begin to wrap it with tape.

“Get some fluids going in-” She muttered.

“Delia, you beautiful being, when is it my turn?” Another voice said from the other side of the curtain before it was pulled aside and a beautiful blonde stood there, curls everywhere and red lips stretched into a smile. “I never get the young cute ones.” She said with a sigh and a flutter of her eyelashes.

“You hussy.” Delia said as she fiddled with the tubes coming out of Stiles. “I'm sure you get plenty of young and cute ones as it is.”

“Sadly, no.” The blonde fell into the chair dramatically behind Delia. “Boyd has a strict no sharing policy.”

“Well.” Delia said and she looked up at Stiles and winked. “You better knock this one out before you have your way with him.”

“Ah, my specialty.” The woman leaned forward and locked eyes with Stiles. “Knocking people out. Yes, let me at him.”

“No, Delia, please don't.” Stiles whispered. “You are the only person here protecting my honor.”

Delia leaned back and shook her head. “I'm sorry, dearie. I have to sacrifice you to Erica here.”

Stiles clutched his chest in mock betrayal.

Delia stood and ran her hand through Stiles' wild hair. “You're doing good, kid.”

Stiles had to look away as Delia gathered her things and trash and left the small room.

“All right, um-” Erica began slowly.

“Stiles.” He provided. “You can put that in my chart or whatever. You can't pronounce it and I don't answer it.”

“Done.” Erica said and her fingers flew over the keys. Then she turned and said, “What brings you to us, Stiles?”

“I'm giving my dad a kidney.” Stiles said.

Erica nodded and picked up a clipboard. “Everyone you meet today is going to ask you that. Just a precautionary measure so that we don't get anything mixed up.”

“Does that happen often?” Stiles asked.

Erica shrugged and her eyes were on the computer screen in front of her. “Only once today.” She said. “A dude came in to donate a kidney and we took a lung.” The slow smile on her face told Stiles she was kidding.

“Ah, well. My dad doesn't need a lung. Just the kidney.” Stiles said.

Erica turned to him and nodded. “Got it. So I'm your anesthesiologist. I will be the one putting you to sleep.” She sat down and faced him again this time with a clipboard in her hands. “If I do my job correctly, and I always do my job correctly, you will be out like a light and won't feel, hear, or remember anything. I will be at your side from the moment you are pushed through that door through most of post op. You'll be intubated, a tube put down your throat to help you breathe, because the anesthesia depresses your respiratory system as well. You need to do your breathing exercises after you get in your room to clear it all out of your lungs.” She sat back and Stiles saw the clear intelligence in her eyes. “Any questions?” She asked.

“Nope.” Stiles said.

“Ok.” She nodded and stood. She stuck out her hand and Stiles shook it. “I'll see you in there.”

“Yes ma'am.” Stiles said.

“Do you need anything right now? Something to take care of the nerves?” She glanced up at his heart rate.

“That would be nice.” Stiles said.

“I'll be right back.” She said.

As Erica left, Scott stuck his head in and Lydia was right behind him and Allison was right behind her.

“Hey.” Stiles said and raised his hand.

“Hi.” Scott said and let the girls take the two chairs. “How's it going?”

“Pretty good.” Stiles said and nodded.

Erica came back in the room and uncapped a needle and pushed it into Stiles' IV, clearing it. He smacked his lips.

“Can you taste it?” She asked, making a face.

Stiles nodded. “It tastes like dry erase markers smell.”

“Gross.” Erica, Scott, and Lydia said.

“What is that?” Lydia asked.

“Just a smidge of diazepam.” Erica said as she uncapped another needle and began to push it in. On Stiles empty stomach he was able to feel it right away. He grinned at Allison and she clutched his hand.

“It's just Valium.” Lydia whispered to Allison.

Allison sniffed and nodded.

Erica left and the other three turned to stare at Stiles.

He stared back.

No one said anything.

“Guys. Come on. I'm doped up. Don't look at me like-” He waved a hand at them. “It's just a kidney. I have two of them.”

“It's major surgery, Stiles.” Scott said and leaned forward. “We can be worried if we want to.”

Stiles frowned at him, feeling chastised.

“But you're doing a good thing.” Allison said. She was still holding his hand. “You'll be great.” She added.

Scott looked betrayed.

Lydia took a picture of him in the bed.

There was another knock and a large man came in, nothing but a wall of muscle. Stiles felt bad for his scrubs. They looked like they were barely hanging on. Behind him was another man with an easy smile and curly hair Stiles wanted to touch.

“Hey there. Nurse Boyd and that's Nurse Lahey back there. We are going to be the ones keeping you alive in the operating room.” The Wall of Muscle said.

“Are you Dr. Erica's Boyd?” Stiles guessed.

Nurse Boyd sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “What did she say?”

“That you aren't the sharing type.” Stiles said.

“Did she threaten you?” Nurse Lahey asked.

Stiles considered that for a moment, “I think so.”

“Lord _Jesus,_ that woman.” Nurse Boyd muttered.

They heard a cackle from the hall.

“Anyway, as Boyd was saying, we're going to be the ones monitoring your vitals. Well, I am, along with Erica and Boyd is technically the surgical assistant. But he was a nurse once too and a control freak, so he'll be monitoring you as well.” Nurse Lahey continued on.

“So what are we seeing you for today?” Nurse Boyd asked as he made some notes on a clipboard.

“I'm giving my dad a kidney.” Stiles said. It would have been annoying but the drugs that Erica gave him made everything seem terribly smooth.

“Good man.” Nurse Boyd said and stood. Stiles signed a few more things and they left as well, informing him that the doctor would be in in just a few minutes.

Stiles closed his eyes and felt another hand slip into his other one and another hand run through his hair. He murmured nice things to his friends and fell into an almost sleep until he heard another set of shoes approach.

“Well, Stiles. Looks like we are almost ready to go.” Dr. Deaton said.

Stiles opened his eyes and Deaton was seated next to him and was smiling.

“How are you?” Deaton asked.

“Good. In the most excellent of all health aspects, apparently.” Stiles said. Scott and Allison were still holding his hands and Lydia had a hand in his hair still.

Deaton nodded. “We are taking your right kidney, so I am just going to mark my initials there and we will get started in just a few minutes.”

“Right.” Stiles said. It took a few seconds for his friends to let go and then he lifted up his gown so that Deaton could scribble over where they were going to take the kidney. There were a few more words exchanged, more papers signed, and Deaton excused himself.

Before his friends could get a hold of him again, a young woman appeared. Her eyes were sparkling and she had a smile on her face.

“I'm Dr. Yukimura.” She said. “I'm the resident and we are ready for you.” She continued.

“ _Now_?” Allison asked.

“Yep.” Dr. Yukimura said, her eyes never leaving Stiles' face. Stiles stared back serenely.

_God bless Erica_.

Dr. Yukimura said a few more things and Stiles looked to Lydia who had her game face on, nodding at the words that the doctor was saying and scribbling down a few things when she had to.

“All righty.” Dr. Yukimura said and had Stiles sit forward so she could put a hair net on him.

When he sat back, it was over his eyes. “Is this how its supposed to go?”

“Uh, no.” Dr. Yukimura said. She fixed and Stiles blinked at everyone who was smiling at him. There was a loud clatter next to his head and he was moving. Stiles looked at his friends and despite the drugs, he could feel a bit of a panic set in.

He waved.

They shouted their love and Scott promised that he would see him in just a little bit.

“Want to say something to your dad?” Dr. Yukimura asked.

“I can see him before I go in?” Stiles asked.

“Hell yeah.” She said. “I'll wheel you the long way so you can see him.”

She made a few more turns and then he was in front of a bay much like the one he was just in and his father was reclined in a bed like his own, with Melissa next to him.

“I'm goin' in, Pops!” Stiles said and waved at his dad.

“Be careful, son.” His dad said and it was an automatic response.

“I will.” Stiles said.

“I love you.” His dad told him.

“I love you too.” Stiles swore.

Dr. Yukimura wheeled him away and pushed through a set of double doors. In the operating room, Stiles shivered.

“It's cold.” He muttered to no one in particular.

“Keeps the germs down.” Lahey said from next to his head. He clamped something on Stiles' finger and a machine beeped in response.

“Let's scoot you over.” Lahey urged and Stiles looked around. There were a lot more people in this room than he met. “It's a university hospital. Some of the papers you signed said you didn't mind students watching.” He murmured.

“Oh. Right.” Stiles nodded. He laid back. The water stain above him was an elephant and its baby this time.

“Hey there hot stuff.” A pair of blue eyes appeared in his field of vision.

“Erica.” Stiles said and smiled.

“That's right, sweet cheeks. I'm gonna give you a little more stuff and then you'll be sleeping like never before, all right?” She said.

“Ok.”

She put something else in his IV and the room twisted.

“You're a warrior.” Erica remarked and her eyes were kind. He felt a hand on his wrist and looked over to see Lahey smiling down at him too. “But its time to rest now, Stiles. We've got it from here.” She put a mask over his face and there wasn't anything to be said after that.

 


	2. Post-Op

“ _Where's Ricky? Where's my mom! Ricky said he loved meeeeee and he's n-n-n-not here!”_ Stiles opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was a chiseled jaw and dark eyes.

“What the fuck.” Stiles stated. He looked around and saw a curtain separating him and whoever the fuck was in his room.

“ _Ricky said he was going to be here! No one's here! No one l-l-loves me!”_ The girl continued to cry.

“Can't fucking guess why.” Stiles muttered and closed his eyes.

“Stiles?” The Jaw asked.

“I was promised my own room.” Stiles muttered and he was _angry_. The girl was still sobbing. “Why. Don't. I. Have. My own room?”

“Private rooms are for donors-” The Jaw started.

“Read my fucking chart what the fuck do you think I am here for, Jesus-”

“ _It HURTS. Someone get my m-m-mom!”_ The girl screamed and the bushy hair left.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Stiles shouted.

The voice stopped.

The Jaw left.

“Just burp. Jesus. It'll make you feel better.” Stiles said.

The voice hiccuped. “Really?”

“Yes, it's just gas built up inside of you-” Stiles started.

“I don't have _gas_.” The voice sounded horrified.

“Oh just shut up.” Stiles groaned. The room spun. He wanted his dad. He wanted Scott.

Scott came in just then, worry lining his face. “Stiles?” He said.

“Oh my god, what the _fuck_.” Stiles hissed and felt nauseous. “They said I would have my own _room_.”

“Yeah and Deaton is out there tearing someone named Whittemore a new one.” Scott said. Allison appeared out of nowhere. Stiles wondered if he was losing bits of time.

“I'm going to go get everyone lunch.” She told Scott and pressed a kiss into Stiles' forehead.

Scott nodded.

The Jaw came back in and looked at Stiles in a calculating manner that he didn't appreciate. “Do you think you can walk?”

Stiles was astonished. Flabbergasted. Bamboozled.

He was two hours out of surgery and this moron wanted him to walk.

“It's not far.” The Jaw continued, “Just a few rooms down.”

Stiles looked to Scott who was already shaking his head but The Jaw was pushing Stiles' bed into a sitting position.

“I'm going to puke.” Stiles declared confidently and The Jaw had a plastic bucket under Stiles' face faster than anything Stiles had seen.

Good thing too, because Stiles puked up something bitter and black and the bucket was gone before he could think about it.

“All right,” The Jaw said, as though nothing happened. “Let's get you up.”

“I really don't think-” Scott said, but The Jaw was hauling Stiles to his feet before Scott could finish his sentence.

“I'm going to puke.” Stiles declared once more.

Once more a bucket appeared.

“Hm.” The Jaw said and set Stiles down on the edge of the bed. “Give me a minute.”

And left.

Left Stiles sitting on the edge of the bed. Stiles closed his eyes and thought of times he had been black out drunk and how he swayed back and forth. He swayed forward and found Scott's hands and then his wide chest to plant his face in.

“You smell like puke.” Scott commented.

“Call. Lydia.” Stiles muttered.

“Already did. She's on her way.”

Stiles must have fallen asleep once more because when he woke up, Lydia was standing in front of him, stroking his face.

“Hey. Come on. I got you a wheelchair.” Lydia murmured.

Stiles looked over to see Scott standing behind a wheelchair.

“You are a goddess. Possibly the Goddess.”

Lydia nodded gravely.

The Jaw came in just then. “Ready for that walk?”

“He's not walking anywhere.” Lydia snapped and Scott came around to help him in the chair.

“He needs to walk-”

“You need to leave.” Lydia replied.

The words were making Stiles dizzy.

And then he was moving, moving into a room that was blissfully quiet and empty and there was a chair and a TV and Scott was helping him into bed.

Lahey appeared and smiled down at Stiles. “You're dad is out. Doing great, man. So are you.” Lahey hummed and moved around the room. Scott watched him anxiously and Lydia studied everything that he did. He attached something to Stiles' legs that began to massage his calved and explained to Lydia and Scott that they were to prevent clots.

“Your night nurse is going to want you to walk.” Lahey said.

Stiles made a wordless whine.

“Yeah.” Lahey said. “I get that. But the more you walk, the faster you get all that anesthesia out of you, the faster you get to go home.”

“If I could-” Lydia said.

Lahey looked up at her.

“That guy that was trying to get Stiles to walk, we don't want him near Stiles. At all. He is incompetent bordering on moronic.”

“I'm your nurse for the rest of the day and Whittemore has been moved to a different floor under Dr. Deaton's orders.” Lahey replied.

“Good.” Scott muttered.

“How about those breathing exercises?” Lahey asked and smiled at Stiles.

Stiles whined.

“Exercises and I'll go into battle against Boyd for the last red Jello for you.” Lahey bartered. He turned to a whiteboard and began scrawling information on it.

“Give me that thing.” Stiles said, reaching for the breathing mechanism that measured the pressure of his breathing. Scott handed it over.

Stiles got his red Jello.

~*~

When he woke up again, Scott was reading in his chair, a blanket thrown over his legs and Lahey and someone else was standing over him.

“I feel gross.” Stiles declared.

Lahey jumped a little and the other nurse to stare at him.

“Does this hospital require headshots to work here?” Stiles asked him honestly. “Also, please disregard what I am saying. I might still be drugged.”

The guy's mouth quirked up. “You are.” He promised.

“My point still stands. Scott? Right?”

“Hm? What?” Scott said.

“All the nurses here are very pretty.” Stiles said and looked up at the new nurse.

“They are.” Scott agreed seriously and went back to book.

Stiles smiled up at the new nurse. The new nurse rolled his eyes and went back to what Lahey was saying.

“And he likes the sequential compression.” Lahey continued and tapped on the device attached to Stiles' legs.

“I love that thing. I want Lydia to steal it for me.” He told the new nurse seriously.

“Please don't steal hospital equipment.” The guy said and began to scrawl his name on the board.

“Ok.” Stiles agreed.

When he opened his eyes again, Lydia was back. “Hey champ.”

“Hi.”

“I'm going to head home.” She whispered. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. Are you taking Scott?”

Lydia tipped her head to the other side and Stiles saw Scott sleeping on the chair. “He won't leave you. I had to give him one of my mom's anti-anxiety meds this morning. Poor kid is pooped.”

Stiles nodded. Lydia kissed him and headed out. As she did, the new nurse, Nurse Derek the name said on the board, came in.

“Hey.” Stiles said.

“How you feeling?” Derek asked.

“I'm ok.” Stiles said and reached for the button that released his pain meds. Derek snorted.

“What do you think about walking?” Derek asked, pushing his bed into a sitting position.

Stiles whined.

“I'm not the pushover that Isaac is. Upsy daisy.” Derek urged gently.

Stiles closed his eyes and tried to sit up.

He didn't move.

“Ok, how do I do this?” Stiles asked. He was warned not to use his abdominal muscles for at least another six weeks.

“Here.” Derek said and grabbed one of Stiles' hands and put it on his shoulder and let Stiles clamp down on his forearm with the other hand. Together, they got Stiles sitting up and eventually his legs over the side of the bed.

“Alright. Give yourself a second.” Derek said and knelt down to slide socks onto Stiles feet.

Stiles nodded.

Derek helped him into another gown so that his bare ass wouldn't be hanging out for all the world to see and then nodded to Stiles.

Stiles pressed his lips together and nodded back. Once more, Stiles used Derek to lever himself upwards and let out a hoot of victory that had Scott awake and standing before he was able to comprehend what was going on.

“Hold on to your IV.” Derek instructed.

Stiles grasped it but before he took his first step, he looked to Derek.

“Um, can you-”

“I'll be right here.” Derek promised. “If you feel dizzy or nauseous, just let me know.”

“Alright.” Stiles said.

He didn't move.

“Stiles?”

“The last nurse that tried to get me to walk kind of just left me.” Stiles confessed.

Derek sighed. “Whittemore is an idiot.”

Stiles urged one foot forward and then the other. Pretty soon he and Derek were walking down the hall. At the end of it, Stiles felt a surge of victory.

“Good?” Derek asked.

“Hell yeah.” Stiles breathed. “I'm cruisin'.”

Stiles made his way back to his room and then back to the end of the hallway and back again. By that point, he felt weird, like there was something vaguely off about him, but he wasn't quite sure what.

“I don't think that second trip was a good idea.” Stiles told Derek and reached for the wall.

Derek was there in a second, helping him into a chair.

“I might puke.” Stiles confessed.

“He's definitely going to puke.” Scott said and handed Derek the pink plastic bucket.

Stiles puked.

Derek had his hand on the back of Stiles neck.

Pretty soon, Stiles was dry heaving and finally sat back and looked up. “Oh god.” He muttered. “Water?” Stiles asked. He could feel the sweat on his forehead.

Derek handed it to him and moments later, Stiles was puking again.

Derek waited until he was done and helped him back into bed.

Stiles puked again.

“Oh my god.” He moaned and leaned back. “What's wrong with me?” He asked.

“Too much too soon, maybe.” Derek guessed and watched as Stiles tried to get some water down. It came right back up. “I'll get you some anti-nausea meds.” He was gone before Stiles could say anything and back before Stiles could realize it. He pushed something into his IV and only a few minutes later, Stiles was dry heaving.

Scott was rubbing his back and Derek was frowning. “Let me get the doctor on the phone, see if I can get you something stronger.”

Stiles wiped the tears from his face and nodded.

He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep again. The door opened again and Stiles saw Scott talking to a different guy.

“I'll look for a cot for you.” The new guy said. His shirt was eye-searingly green and his pants were black. He approached Stiles. “Derek is on the phone with Deaton right now. They are ordering the stronger meds for you right now. Can I get you anything?”

“Bucket!” Stiles said and pointed.

The new guy handed the bucket to Stiles and stepped back.

Stiles dry heaved.

“Oh god.” He muttered. “Can I get a soda?” He asked the new guy.

“I'll talk to Derek.” He said. “I'm Zach.” Stiles nodded and fell back.

It felt like days before Derek came back and helped Stiles get more comfortable.

“It's a no-go on the soda.” Derek said and he looked sorry. “But I got something better.” He said and brandished a needle that was still packaged in plastic wrapping.

“Oh thank god.” Stiles muttered and dry heaved once more. “I'm about to tear all of these stitches.”

“This'll fix it.” Derek muttered and tore the needle out of the packaging.

Scott stood on the opposite side of Stiles and watched Derek. Derek pushed the needle in and Stiles felt the entire world slip into a different dimension and leave him behind.

Derek watched Stiles eyes cross and then slip shut. He raised his eyes to Scott and Scott looked back at him.

“Is he always like this?” Derek whispered.

“Like what?” Scott demanded. “We don't do illegal drugs often, ya know.”

Derek glared at him.

“Dude, you're the medical professional here!” Scott waved his hands in the vague direction of Stiles' very still body.

Derek redirected his attention to Stiles, “Stiles? Are you here?”

Stiles mumbled something and Derek leaned in closer. “Stiles? You here?”

“I'm... _some_ where...” Stiles mumbled.

“Jesus.” Scott said and Derek could see him trying not to laugh.

~*~

When Stiles woke up next, Deaton and Derek were standing over his bed and speaking to him.

“What?” Stiles said and tried to sit up.

“Nausea?” Deaton prompted.

“No, nothing. Gone.” Stiles replied and yawned. “I can't wake up. What time is it?”

“Seven.” Derek said and looked at the clock.

“Wow.” Stiles said.

Scott snored.

“Well, that's an improvement. Do you mind if I take a look?” Deaton asked, gesturing to Stiles' torso.

“Nope.” Stiles said and threw the blankets off himself. Derek caught them and laid them back neatly just across his hips and then tugged the gown up.

“I usually get dinner before this part of the date.” Stiles said and winked at Derek.

Scott snorted from his pile of pillows. “Not all the time.” He said.

Deaton rolled his eyes and Derek looked back and forth between the two of them. “Nurse Hale?” Deaton prompted.

“Right.” Derek said and rolled the gown up all the way.

It was the first time that Stiles had gotten to see the incisions on his torso and he was not disappointed.

“Dude, Scott. Come look at this, it's so gross.” Stiles said.

Scott immediately stood and went to Derek's side. “Ewwwww.” Scott said. “That is pretty gross.” He agreed.

The surgery itself had been laparoscopic, which meant that there were four incisions on different parts of Stiles' torso. There was a small one right over his rib cage, another small one farther down and even further right, and another small one over his right hip.

The one that caught Scott and Stiles' attention was above his belly button. It stretched upward about two and a half inches from his belly button and was sewn together in a jagged line. The skin was red and puffy and angry looking and Stiles had to look away after a minute. There were black bits but neither Derek or Deaton looked concerned. Deaton probed the area around the small incisions gently, asking about pain.

There was none, but that seemed to be expected, with the amount of drugs pumping through Stiles.

“So, can I get some real food?” Stiles asked eagerly.

“No.” Deaton said and looked apologetic. “You have to go easy for the first few days following this surgery. It's clear liquids for a few days now.”

Stiles sighed and then perked up. “Can I have a soda?” He asked.

“Nope.” Derek said this time and pulled the gown down and the blankets back up. He checked the machines and Deaton said goodbye. “Too much sugar.” He finally muttered and looked at the machine and then at Stiles. “Seriously, how's the pain?” He asked. Stiles hesitated and Derek sighed.

“I'm going to go get some coffee or food or-” Scott left before he finished his sentence.

Derek looked over his shoulder at Scott rushing out. “Your boyfriend is in a rush.”

“Ok, that's actually grosser than the stitches.” Stiles said and made a face. “Scott's my stepbrother and best friend.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Stiles.” He said flatly.

“The pain- it's ok.” Stiles said. “I mean, there are times when it's bad but it's not like- it's not like I'm being stuck with needles four times a day, three times a week. You know?” Stiles said, referring to his dad's dialysis treatment. “And it's not _that_ bad.”

“Yeah, ok.” Derek said and rolled his eyes as he fiddled with the machine next to him that pumped out the drugs. “But there isn't any reason for you to be in pain. If it hurts, call us and we'll take care of it, ok?”

Stiles looked down.

“Stiles.” Derek said and there was a much softer note there.

“Ok. Yes. I will call someone if it gets bad.” Stiles agreed.

Derek nodded and went to the door. “You did a good thing. There isn't any reason for you to put yourself through unnecessary pain.”

He was gone before Stiles could form a reply.

~*~

The day passed in a haze of drugs. After awhile, Stiles noticed that it was Isaac and not Derek that was answering him when he called for a nurse and that it was Isaac who made him walk twice down the hall and back again.

“You're doing good.” Isaac said with a grin.

“Have you heard anything about my dad?” Stiles asked as he drank down some apple juice.

“Doing good. He's in ICU for now.” Isaac said.

Stiles almost dropped his juice.

“No, that's just where all the post transplant recipients go. They have to be in a clean room and by themselves. He's fine. Walking, more than you, actually. Melissa hasn't left his side. We might have to kick her out so that she can get some rest. He's eating pretty good too.” Isaac said and looked at the machines at his side. “Derek is going to come on shift in about a half hour. I'm going to put in orders to get the catheter you have in taken out. I don't know if it's going to be me or him to take it out.”

“Man, I don't _care_.” Stiles said with a huff. “As long as its out.”

Seeing the catheter run up inside of him had probably been the most jarring thing of his hospital stay so far and although it wasn't painful (drugs, so many wonderful drugs) there was still a pressure and it was uncomfortable.

Isaac smiled. “I'll get that taken care of.”

He left and Scott same in, with Zach fast on his heels. “I talked to Dr. Deaton just a few minutes ago.” Zach said without any preamble and Stiles had to blink at the sheer onslaught of Zach's personality. “And he told me that it's a no go on the soda but I can give you all the Jello and broth you can stomach.”

“Ugh.” Stiles slumped back and pulled a pillow over his face. “Quick, someone kill me.”

“Pudding?” Zach tried.

Stiles whined.

“You, on the other hand,” Stiles moved the pillow to see Zach addressing Scott now, “I am going to hunt down a cot and get it in here for you if its the last thing I do.” He gave Scott a wide smile that was only matched by Scott's. He spun on his heel and Scott came back to the bed.

“How's dad?” Stiles asked.

“Good. He's eating and walking. He looks good.” Scott said and nodded.

Stiles nodded and winced. He reached for his button and depressed it, heard the soothing hiss and a moment later, the pain was gone.

“This button is my new best friend. Sorry, Scotty, you have been replaced.”

Scott shrugged, “I'm ok with it.”

Stiles leaned back and sighed.

“How is it?” Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged. “It's ok.”

“No, really.” Scott said. “I will tell Derek if you aren't being truthful.” He said.

“Traitor.” Stiles said and held his button up so that Scott could see it. “See? I'm doing the thing.”

Scott eyed him again.

“And now I'm going to go to sleep.” Stiles muttered as the drugs hit him.

“Lightweight.” Was the last thing Stiles heard before he completely lost consciousness.

~*~

When he woke up, Derek was putting a few things on his bedside table and Scott was watching something on TV.

“What's that for?” Stiles asked and winced.

“Time to take the catheter out.” Derek said easily.

“Oh.” Stiles said and reached for his button.

“It won't hurt.” Derek assured him. “It'll feel weird, but there shouldn't be any pain.”

Stiles dispensed his medication anyway.

He watched Derek lay everything out, which wasn't really much, and then tugged the curtain closed around them. Derek laid the blankets back neatly, pulled Stiles' gown all the way up past his hips and set about cleaning _the area_ with a bottle he had.

The gloves felt weird and Stiles was 100% sure that if he weren't not drugged, there would have been other adverse reactions, but for once, the lack of was in his favor.

“Ok.” Derek said and looked up at Stiles. “Deep breath in.”

Stiles sucked in a deep breath and looked at Derek who was staring up at him, judging his expression for any pain.

“And out.” Derek said and kept his eyes on Stiles and with one long, even, movement, he pulled the catheter out.

“Oh god.” Stiles said and his voice cracked.

Derek smirked and began to bag everything up. “Don't worry. I have had plenty of guys pass out on me. Makes my job a little easier, but it's kind of disconcerting, their lack of faith.”

“Your lack of faith is disturbing.” Stiles quoted immediately.

Derek chuckled. “Exactly. Get some rest. I'll be back with your dinner.”

“Steak, baked potatoes, and steamed veggies.” Stiles ordered.

“Or beef broth.” Derek corrected.

“Spoil sport.” Stiles countered and then Derek was gone.

“Do you have a crush?” Scott asked when the door was closed.

“Um. Are you _blind_?” Stiles asked. “Look at him.”

“He just pulled a tube out of your dick.” Scott replied.

“And now he knows what he's working with.” Stiles said and waggled his eyebrows at Scott.

“I walked right into that.” Scott admitted.

After dinner, Derek insisted that he walk and Stiles, feeling adventurous, asked to go see his dad. Derek did the eyebrow thing that Stiles has become increasingly familiar with and asked him if he was absolutely sure that he was up for it.

“Yeah, I haven't got to see the old goat.” Stiles said.

He and Derek rode up a floor and Derek stayed at his side as he shuffled into the intensive care unit. Boyd looked up and exchanged a look with Derek. Derek shrugged and there was some kind of eyebrow communication that Stiles couldn't decipher.

Boyd stood and gestured to a door and put a finger to his lips. Stiles nodded. Boyd opened the door and pushed past the curtain that was blocking the door.

“Hey, Sheriff.” Boyd said. “You've got a visitor.”

“Oh, Boyd, I'm not sure I'm up for anyone-” John started and then stopped when Stiles shuffled in. He belatedly thought of what he looked like, walking like an old man, Derek at his elbow.

But it didn't seem to matter. His dad positively lit up. “Son.” He said. Stiles made his way to the side of his dad's bed and hugged him as well as he could.

“Hey pops.” Stiles said and sank down into a chair that Derek brought in for him.

“I'll just be outside.”  Derek said to Stiles.

Stiles nodded and Boyd brought in a chair for him to sit in. Melissa was on the other side of his dad and she looked like she was going to cry.

“Ok, first rule, nobody gets to cry.” Stiles said.

“Yeah, I can't make any promises, kiddo.” His dad said and sniffled.

Melissa shook her head.

Stiles sighed. “How you feeling?” He asked his dad and perked up.

“Good. Everything seems to be working like it should. Doc was telling me that the kidney is working pretty well and I should be out of here in no time at all.” John said.

“Good.” Stiles said and nodded. “Because there are no returns or exchanges here. One and done, dad.” He said.

There was a truth to his words, they all knew. The risk was that if his dad rejected the kidney, John would go to the bottom the donation list and the kidney would be thrown out, unable to be used again. Stiles had read horror stories about kidneys being dropped while being carried from the donor to the recipient and Scott had revoked his internet privileges for a week after he almost had a panic attack.

John would be on immunosuppresants for the rest of his life and would be at a higher risk of infection from here on out. He would have to watch what he ate more so now than ever and there were even certain fruits he couldn't have because of the interaction with the drugs.

On the bright side was that there would be no more trips to the dialysis center, three times a week, four hours per visit and being poked four times per visit. Stiles did the math and winched at the thought of how many times his dad had been stabbed in the past thirty six months alone. There would be no more migraines or fevers. His energy level would go up, his water retention went down, the swelling in his hands and feet were gone, and the sheer amount of medications, specifically for blood pressure, were cut in half and might even go down further as time went on.

Stiles counted it as a win.

“How are you doing?” John asked and reached for Stiles' hand.

“I am sick to death of broth, jello, and ice chips. I am a fan of the button that they keep close by and I got the hottest nurse I have ever seen in my entire existence.” Stiles said seriously. “So, all in all, I have had worse trips to the hospital.”

John sighed.

There was a snort of laughter from the door behind Stiles and he turned to see that it was slightly ajar still. It sounded like Boyd laughing.

Stiles shrugged when he met Melissa's eyes. “I'm pretty sure I hit on him right after I got out of the operating room and was super drugged up.”

Melissa gave him a soft smile and shook her head. “What are we going to do with you?” She asked.

“Never give me broth, jello, or ice chips as long as I live, please.” Stiles said. “What do they have you on, dad?”

His dad looked uncomfortable for a minute before Melissa answered for him.

“He got solids almost right away. They want to get the kidney up and running. So, soup, soft sandwiches, that sort of thing. Easy to digest. He had coffee and eggs this morning.”

“I have never in all my life been so betrayed.” Stiles said and yawned.

“You should get back.” John said. “Get some rest.”

Melissa stood and went to the door, presumably to get Derek.

“Probably a good idea.” Stiles agreed and stood. He grasped his IV pole and pulled it closer so he could give his father an awkward hug that ended with them getting their tubes all tangled and Boyd and Derek having to sort it out.

Derek escorted him out and down the hall. Stiles stopped him at the end and pointed to a chair. He was almost panting.

“You want me to call for a wheelchair?” Derek asked, reaching for the small phone clipped to his belt.

“No-” Stiles said and waved his hand. “I can do this.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Derek said, dialing a number on the phone, “But I don't want you puking and staying longer than you need to.” He spoke to someone on the phone and hung up.

“I'm hurt.” Stiles said and leaned back in the chair. The hallway was tilting slightly. “I thought we had a connection, Nurse Hale. Unspoken, sure, but still there.”

“When did you push your button last?” Derek asked.

“What time is it?” Stiles said.

“Five eighteen.”

“An hour and eighteen minutes ago.” Stiles said.

Derek hissed and took the button from Stiles and adjusted something. The hallway tilted even further when Stiles heard the machine dispense the medicine.

“Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?” Derek asked him.

“Whoo.” Stiles said and reached a hand out to Derek. The drugs were coursing through his veins and he could _definitely_ feel them. He also knew that he was going to need that wheelchair to get back to his room.

“Stiles.” Derek said and grasped his hand. Stiles felt the tilting stop and right itself.

“It's weird. It's like-” Stiles waited and swallowed. “It's like my brain isn't registering pain. It's like that whole area is numb and I can't tell I need pain meds unless I time it or I think I might puke.”

“That whole area  _is_  numb.” Derek said and there were squeaking shoes and Isaac was there with a chair. Derek lifted Stiles up and gently put him down in the chair in a move that was so practiced and smooth that Stiles was envious.

“Need help?” Isaac asked. “We're overstaffed down there and I could escort you.”

Derek regarded Stiles for a moment before nodding. “Go get a bucket. We'll wait.”

Stiles heard the squeaking depart.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked softly and his body relaxed. He didn't even know that he was tense as a wire until the drugs began to work.

“What are you asking about?” Derek said and stood in front of him and knelt.

“That whole area is numb.” Stiles gestured clumsily to the incision area.

“When they were in there, they put a thin tube in. It has a bunch of tiny holes that releases numbing meds that keep the area numb so you don't feel anything. Didn't they tell you this?” Derek asked, clearly frustrated.

“They did  _not_.” Stiles said emphatically. For all the help that the donation organization had been initially, they were woefully understaffed and their information was more than a bit dated. Certain pieces of vital info, like the tube and the numbing medicine, Stiles had not been informed of. Dealing with them had been frustrating. Stiles' doctors had been switched at the last minute and they told him that his left kidney would be taken instead of the right when, in pre-op, he had been told the opposite.

“Jesus.” Derek said and stood when Stiles heard the squeaking return.

Derek and Isaac took him back down to his room and helped him into bed.

“How are you?” Isaac asked and studied him for a minute.

“I would like some water and my bucket, please.” Stiles said.

“Scott.” Derek said and gestured to the doorway.

Isaac, bless his angelic curls, brought him his bucket first and then went to get some water. Stiles puked up the broth he had gotten before visiting his father and then drank the water that Isaac brought him. He promptly puked that up, but it was better than dry heaving.

Before Derek and Scott returned, dismissing Isaac, Stiles puked twice more.

He leaned back and there were tears on his face. “Ugh. That sucks.” He said.

Derek took the bucket away, washed it out, and brought him his toothbrush. “Scott has a timer on his phone so that he knows when to give you your meds. I'm going to talk to Deaton.”

“All right.” Stiles said. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He listened to the air conditioner's soft  _whoosh_  and heard Scott settle into his chair.

“Can I- Can I get you anything?” Derek said, sounding unsure for the first time since Stiles had met him.

Stiles shook his head. “I'm good.”

~*~

Stiles was not good. He opened his eyes twenty minutes later and snatched the bucket off his bedside table. He was vomiting again and there was some kind of alarm far away. Something about an urgent team and a code gray needed or something like that. Stiles couldn't pay attention. The only thing that he could focus on was Scott's hand on his back and the fact that he was pushing the call button.

Stiles lost sense of time. He kicked the blankets off of himself and winced when he felt the stitches tug at his lower belly.

“Fuck.” Stiles muttered and reached for his bucket. It was pink. Stiles probably would never be able to see the color without feeling at least a little ill. He heard Scott push his pain meds and waited for them to kick in and the dry heaving to stop.

It didn't stop.

“Where the fuck is everyone?” Scott asked and pushed the button again. He looked from the door to Stiles who was clutching the bucket again. He was breathing hard and he pulled off his heart rate monitor with a fierce jerk. The sticky pad came off with a little bit of blood but the beeping stopped too.

Which raised another alarm. This one was much louder and right above Stiles' head.

“Shit.” Scott muttered and stood up. He pulled the table away from Stiles' bed and that was when they both registered the growing red spot on the hospital gown, above his belly where the largest incision was.

Their eyes met before Stiles puked again.

When he looked up, Scott was pulling cabinet doors open and the alarm above his head was still going off when Scott returned with a thick pad of gauze in his hand.

“Sorry, dude.” Scott said to Stiles and lifted his gown and pushed down on the torn stitches with the gauze.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Stiles screamed. That, he could definitely feel.

The door flew open and Stiles dry heaved over the bucket and there was an slightly familiar voice next to Stiles' ear.

He wasn't even sure when he had put his bed into the sitting position. Or if Scott had done it.

“What happened?” Dr. Reyes asked even as her eyes landed on Stiles' abdomen, where Scott's hands were pressing. She grabbed some more gauze and pressed it to a different part of Stiles' ribs.

“He just woke up and started puking. His temperature went up and his heart was going crazy. He kicked the blankets off and that might have been when this happened.” Scott replied evenly. He was grateful for his friend's paramedic knowledge and his complete inability to be anything more than mildly surprised when it came to Stiles. “His heart monitor was going off and he tore it off before I could stop him.”

The door flew open again and his bed was being put back into the horizontal position.

“How many tore?” Derek asked from above him.

Stiles managed to open his eyes to see Isaac, Derek, and Dr. Deaton above him. Isaac got the machines turned off.

“Two.” Erica said. “What's he on?”

“Fentanyl.” Derek replied.

“Nurse Lahey, get some more gauze.” Deaton said calmly. “Dr. Reyes, take Mr. McCall here and get him cleaned up. Isaac, bring some needle and thread while you are out there.”

“And a bandage.” Derek said and studied the skin Stiles had ripped off when he took the heart monitor off.

“What the fuck.” Stiles managed and opened his eyes.

“Looks like an allergy.” Dr. Deaton said calmly and lowered the bar next to the bed.

“But I was  _fine_.” Stiles said. Then he looked to Derek who raised his eyebrows. “Ish.” Stiles admitted.

“It could have been a minor thing that we missed and became aggravated.” Deaton said and Isaac returned, carrying a tray he set at Derek's side. There was a needle and thread and Isaac handed a small vial to Deaton. “We're going to switch to something else for your pain.” He said and he opened the small box on the IV pole and Isaac stood at Derek's side. They cleaned and cut through the stitches that Stiles had torn open and Derek quickly threaded a needle and bent over Stiles' abdomen.

“And then I am giving you something for the nausea.” Derek said.

“And you are going to sleep like a baby.” Isaac nodded. He patted Stiles' hand.

Finally, something went Stiles' way and he slept.

 


	3. After Care

There was one more day in the hospital, filled with instructions that Scott dutifully wrote down, a bag full of painkillers and Stiles was released into Scott's care.

They went home and Stiles wanted to cry when he saw his bed. He took a shower first and Scott waited on the toilet for him to finish. By the time Stiles was out of the shower, he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Scott handed him two pain pills and pulled back the blankets on his ridiculously large bed.

“Did you talk to dad?” Stiles asked.

“Yep.” Scott said. “Getting better and stronger everyday.”

That was all Stiles needed to hear before he fell asleep.

Scott sat by his side for a moment before going to his room and turning on a walkie talkie. Stiles had the other one by his bed. He began to gather ingredients to make something to eat, soup probably, and worked quickly to get it ready.

His mom always told him that the longer it simmered, the better it tasted.

Scott figured that Stiles deserved something good to eat for the first time in over a week.

Stiles woke up a few hours later and everything ached. He checked his phone and the alarm he had set for when he could take his next set of painkillers. Then he reached for his walkie talkie.

“Puppy One, this is Bambi, do you read me?” He said.

“Puppy One here, I got you loud and clear, Bambi.” Scott's voice came back immediately.

“Requesting assistance for upright maneuvers.”

Scott appeared in the door a moment later and helped Stiles sit up and get into the bathroom. Once out, he shuffled into the kitchen and almost cried when he smelled soup.

Food. Real food with things he could chew and taste and enjoy.

They settled into their routine fairly easily and Allison and Lydia stopped by at least once a day to update them on work. Stiles tried to watch TV but when he started to watch the Fast and the Furious saga for the third time, he gave up trying to fight sleep and rested.

It was on the fifth day of their confinement that Scott found himself in a worrisome position.

Allison and Lydia were away at a conference.

Stiles, as usual, was asleep in his room.

John was still in the hospital, owing to a low grade fever that made the doctors postpone his release. Melissa was with him and Scott was unsure if she should call her or not.

But this was an emergency.

They were out of toilet paper.

And damn near everything else.

Unsure of what to do, Scott dialed the number that Isaac had given him and stared out the window. It was raining and Stiles seemed to sleep more on days it rained.

“Post op, this is Hale.” A gruff voice answered.

“Hi, uh, Derek, this is Scott McCall? I was in there a couple of weeks ago with my brother-”

“Stiles.” Derek interrupted. “Right, of course. How is he?”

Scott looked down the room like Stiles might have suddenly stood up from his bed and tap danced his way out into the hall.

“He's good. Asleep right now but he's eating and drinking a lot of water and he walks around our apartment a lot.” Scott said.

“So what can I help you with?” Derek asked, sounding confused.

“Oh! Right. Well, thing is, I need to run out to the store. We are out of everything and he needs more vegetables and the toilet paper situation is  _critical_. He just took his meds about thirty minutes ago and I was wondering if it would be ok for him to be alone while I ran out to the store?”

“No.” Derek answered immediately. “You don't have anyone who could come over and stay with him?”

Scott sighed. “Not for another two days. Lydia and Allison are out of town on a work thing and our parents are still in the hospital.”

There was a silence on the other end of the line.

“If you can wait twenty minutes, I can come sit with him.” Derek said.

“No!” Scott said. “I can't ask you to do that. That's just- I mean, that's very kind of you but-”

“It's either me or no toilet paper, Scott. Pretty soon you and Stiles will be scavenging bones and it'll be like the Hunger Games in there.” Derek replied.

Scott gave him their address.

~*~

When Derek showed up, it took Scott a moment to recognize him out of his usual work scrubs and gelled hair. He wore loose shorts and a t-shirt with running shoes.

“I owe you so much right now.” Scott said.

“When was the last time you left your apartment?” Derek asked, looking at Scott in concern.

“Five days ago.”

Derek raised his eyebrows.

“I didn't want to leave him.” Scott said and ushered Derek in. “Come on, I'll show you around.”

The “apartment” was a converted warehouse. It was mostly exposed brick and metal but the furnishings were elegant and sturdy. Every single flat surface was covered with books. In their living room alone were more books than Derek could count.

“So, you guys read?” Derek asked.

“The four of us, Allison, Lydia, Stiles, and I formed the first book club at BHHS,” Scott pointed to a picture of the group, younger and gawkier, in front of the high school, “And from there we all went on to major in just about the same thing and then we actually started a publishing company. It's been crazy but worth it.”

Derek shook his head. “Amazing.”

“Tell me about it!” Scott said and showed him the kitchen. “I edit mainly the self help, Allison does a lot of the sports, Lydia does the romance and thriller and Stiles does the horror. It works out really well. We hire interns from the college and occasionally the high school and it just-” Scott shrugged. “Works.” Derek supplied and Scott nodded.

Scott led Derek down a hall and there were pictures of all four of them hanging out in various parts of the world. “Man, what Stiles and I would give to pick apart a brain like yours. All that medical terminology just waiting to be used.” He shook his head.

“My mom or sisters would probably be a better help. They're doctors.” Derek bragged then he braced himself for the inevitable question.  _Why aren't you a doctor?_

But Scott's eyes only widened. “I would love to meet them. Any of them. All of them. You have no idea.”

Then they were in Stiles' room. It was dominated by a veritable wall of books and a large TV. Stiles was sprawled across his bed, feet tangled in the blanket below him.

“And here he is.” Scott said and gestured grandly at Stiles.

Derek snorted. “Indeed.” He stepped up to the bed and lifted Stiles' shirt. The stitches looked good. He laid his shirt down and untangled Stiles' feet from the blanket and pulled it up across his chest. When he looked up at Scott, there was a softness in his expression that Derek hadn't seen before. Derek cleared his throat and looked down at Stiles' sleeping form. “When was the last time he got up and walked around?”

“At three, right before his second dose.” Scott said softly.

“Ok.” Derek said and nodded. “I got it from here. Go do what you need to do.”

Scott nodded. “We have a bunch of leftovers so feel free to help yourself to whatever you want.”

Derek nodded and Scott left.

Derek settled himself in a comfortable chair next to the window and picked up a book.

~*~

When Stiles woke up, Derek was sitting next to him on his bed, watching Deadpool. There was an empty bowl on his bedside table and a bottle of water.

“Nurse Hale. I knew we had a connection but this is nonetheless unexpected.” Stiles said.

“Scott ran out of toilet paper and had to call in reinforcements.” Derek said and laughed at the movie. Stiles looked down and noticed Derek's feet next to his but that Derek's socks didn't match. His toes curled as he continued to laugh and it was fucking adorable.

Stiles used his forearms to push himself upright and then Derek was there, helping him up.

“You would think you would have had enough of doing this all day.” Stiles said.

“I like it.” Derek said easily.

“Good.” Stiles huffed and swung his legs over to the side of the bed. Derek stood and Stiles used him as a way to lift himself up and to his feet. Then he marched himself into the bathroom.

When he came back out, Derek was on his bed once more, the movie playing in the background.

“Is it still raining?” Stiles asked.

“Yep. Cats and dogs.” Derek said and looked over at him. “Hungry?”

“I could eat.” Stiles said.

“Soup?”

“Sure.”

“Get into bed. I'll be right back.” Derek said and picked up his own bowl and went into the kitchen. Stiles did as he was told, having perfected the art of getting in and out of bed without help.

Derek came back in, the soup on a tray and a bottle of water. Stiles fell on the food like a half starved animal and Derek sat down again. He started the movie up and Stiles ate and Derek relaxed and there was the movie and the rain outside.

It was nice.

When Stiles finished, he put his bowl on the table beside him next to his own bottle of water and put the tray down on the floor beside him. Derek stood, took the bowl and the tray back into the kitchen and sat back down.

“Did you want to watch something else?” Derek asked, looking from Stiles to the TV.

“No, this is fine. This is good.” Stiles said. He yawned. “Did Scott say when he would be back?”

“No.” Derek said.

“You might be in trouble. Hope you don't have any plans if you are insistent that I'm not alone.” Stiles muttered.

“Why?” Derek asked and looked at him.

“Well, Scott hasn't left the house in three days-”

“He said five.” Derek said.

Stiles looked confused. “What's today?”

“Saturday.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, five.” Stiles said and blinked. “I lost two days. Huh.”

“What were you saying? About Scott being gone?” Derek prodded.

“Oh.” Stiles said and settled down deeper into the pillows. “He hasn't left the house in a long time. He might not be back for a little while.”

Derek looked down at him and Stiles looked up at him. They stared at each other for a stretch of silence and Derek murmured, “That's ok.”

“You sure?” Stiles asked.

Derek looked from Stiles' mouth to his eyes and back down again before nodding like an idiot. “It's fine. Yeah, it's good.” He mumbled.

“You are a good man, Derek Hale.” Stiles murmured and there was a hand on his wrist.

“Sleep.” Derek encouraged.

Stiles did as he was told.

~*~

Scott came back loaded up with groceries, a new round of movies, some new books, and a paper sack filled with burgers and greasy fries.

Derek helped him put things away and then Scott insisted he stay for some food.

“You are a lifesaver, like, you don't even understand.” Scott said, his mouth half full.

Derek laughed.

“Seriously. I was becoming more and more worried.” Scott said. “You never know what you have until its gone.”

“Kidneys or toilet paper?” Derek asked.

“Either.” Scott said with a shrug.

Derek chuckled. “I am headed out. I have got the next four days off, so don't be afraid to give me a call if you need to get out.”

Scott stood and walked him to the door. “Thank you. So much.”

Derek patted him on the shoulder and left.

~*~

Derek wanted to be surprised when he found himself on the same doorstep two days later, but he honestly wasn't. He felt like he was getting sucked into some kind of black hole of friendship, getting drawn into the daily lives of Stiles and his friends, and being more and more willing to hang out, even after there was someone to stay with Stiles. Stiles himself began to text Derek after he found his number in Scott's phone. It wasn't a daily thing. Derek liked to sleep on his days off and Stiles was still recovering.

But when he got another text from Scott this time, he knew that Scott was probably in need of some downtime. So Derek grabbed the latest movie Laura had rented and fallen asleep during and headed out, after waving goodbye to his parents.

He would feel weird about living with his parents but both of his sisters were still in the house and they were doctors, so he didn't feel weird at all.

When he knocked on the door, it was jerked opened so fast, Derek almost stumbled back.

“I feel like a single parent.” Scott said, his eyes wide.

“What happened?” Derek asked and Scott pulled him inside.

“A client of ours, one of the biggest ones, wants to meet _right_ _now_. Allison and Lydia aren't due back until seven and our parents just left the hospital like, an hour ago.” Scott said and tried to tie his tie and put his shoes on at the same time. “Stiles is going to wake up in a few minutes and he hasn't had breakfast, he slept through the night, but that means he is going to be in pain, and he hasn't walked in twelve hours-”

Derek put his hands on Scott's shoulders and stopped him. “Slow down.” Derek said.

“I've never handled a client this big alone.” Scott whispered, his eyes wide.

Derek took the tie out of his hands and began to knot it. “You've got this. You know your business just as much as the others do. You deal with this and then go get yourself a big ice cream cone.”

Scott nodded and straightened his back. Derek wondered if this was what Laura felt like when she gave him pep talks and tied his ties for him.

“I've got this.” Scott confirmed.

“Yes, you do.” Derek nodded. “Now, go before you're late.” He said and all but pushed Scott out the door. Derek toes off his shoes by the door and headed to the back where Stiles is undoubtedly asleep still.

Stiles was on the bed, much like he was that first day, blanket tangled around his feet. Derek checked his stitches and when he looked up, Stiles was looking down at him.

“How's it looking down there?” Stiles asked.

Derek redirected his eyes down to the stitches, the three small incisions and the one large one, and nodded. “Everything looks pretty good.”

Stiles smiled. “So is there a reason that you are still looking?”

Derek hastily dropped Stiles shirt and backed off.

Stiles laughed at him. “Just messing with you. Where's Scott?”

“A client called and asked to meet right away.” Derek said.

“Who was it?” Stiles asked and sat up with a grimace.

“Uhhh...” Derek had to think. “Olsen?” He guessed.

“Figures.” Stiles said and stood up. He held onto the wall for a second. “That dude is a dick.” He shuffled his way into the bathroom and Derek stood in Stiles' room, unsure of what he should do. For some reason, with Stiles awake, it seemed more intimate to just sit down on his bed. He walked over to the wall of books instead and went over a few of the titles that he hadn't gotten to look over the night before.

The genres were all over the place and it didn't seem like there was any particular order.

Stiles eventually came out and Derek couldn't help but notice how pale he was.

“You in pain?” Derek asked.

Stiles hesitated but nodded. “I'm trying to wean myself off of them, though.” Stiles replied.

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Alright, but a couple of Tylenol won't kill you either.”

“On an empty stomach, they might.” Stiles said.

“Well, let's go to the kitchen. I'll make pancakes.” Derek suggested and walked behind Stiles as they made their way to the kitchen.

Stiles sat and drank coffee while Derek made the pancakes. They ate at the breakfast bar and as Stiles got meds and food in him, he became a little more animated. It wore off quickly though and Derek helped him to bed sooner than either one of them thought.

“I'm terrible company.” Stiles lamented when he was in bed.

“It's ok.” Derek said immediately. “When you are feeling better, you can take me out.”

Stiles looked up at him for a moment and Derek opened his mouth to take the words back. “I will remember that, Derek. And you and I will have the time of our lives.” Stiles promised.

Derek rolled his eyes and sat down next to Stiles.

“Typically, bed sharing happens this early on when someone is getting laid.” Stiles pointed out.

“You are on strict orders when it comes to sex.” Derek reminded him.

Stiles pouted and Derek shoved his face away. Then he showed Stiles the DVDs he brought. “Zombie apocalypse or ghost story?”

“Zombies.” Stiles said.

Fifteen minutes after the movie started, Stiles was drooling on his shoulder.

When Scott came home with his ice cream cone in hand, the client happy and satisfied, he looked in on Stiles.

Stiles was curled around Derek, who was on his back, both of them dead to the world. He took a picture, sent it to Allison, and closed the door.

~*~

_**Four Months Later** _

“Wine tasting and a picnic underneath the stars?” Derek said. “If I weren't mistaken, I would think you were trying to get me into a romantic mood.”

“I think you are a terrible human being for even thinking such things.” Stiles countered. He was finally fully healed and he was doing so much better these days. Now that he was back at work full time and on a lighter work out schedule, often with Derek, and now he could think about other things.

Namely things he would like to do with Derek.

Romantic, sexy things.

 _Naked_ things.

“Stop leering at me.” Derek said.

“I'm not leering.” Stiles replied. “I'm just-” He looked Derek up and down. “Enjoying the view.” It was hard not to. When Derek had finally kissed him two months ago, Stiles was ready. Right then and there. But Derek, ever the nurse, had made him slow down, made sure that everything was cleared with Deaton before he finally agreed that yeah, yeah he was more than willing to take things to the next level.

The next romantic, sexy level.

The next _naked_ level.

Ok, so maybe Stiles was leering.

He forced his gaze to the park in front of them, where they were walking back to Derek's car, picnic basket in hand. But it's not that he just stopped being aware of Derek in his long sleeved shirt, the skin tight jeans, the boots that Stiles sighed over because _he_ could never pull those off. Stiles was always aware of Derek, now that they were dating, officially.

Derek slid in behind the wheel and then frowned.

“What?” Stiles asked, ready to put his plans on the back burner. Derek had explained to him about Kate, how she had stalked him through his pre-med, through his clinicals, and how she burst into the hospital one night, looking for Derek. She hadn't been able to find him but she found Laura. Laura; beautiful, strong, brave Laura, had taken the bullet that was meant for Derek.

But Kate had taken a scalpel to the jugular before she got another shot off.

Laura had a pretty terrible scar that she was happy to show anyone. It made an indent in her upper right thigh and she told Stiles that if she wasn't already in the OR, if everything hadn't already been prepped, if the team wasn't already assembled and only waiting, if there wasn't already another doctor walking down the hall just outside the room, that if she had literally been anywhere else at any other time, she would have died.

But Dr. Hale, Talia that is, had been looking for Laura to warn her to go home because Kate was spotted in the hospital, when the shot rang out and she rushed into the room. The first thing she had seen, she told Stiles, was a nurse leaning over Laura, pressing down on the wound, Laura screaming, and Kate bleeding out on the floor beside her. As a mother, it was the single worst thing she had ever seen. As a doctor, it was a literal clusterfuck.

Stiles asked if he could use that as a technical term.

Talia told him that he could.

It was against about fifty rules for Talia to operate on Laura, especially with Cora helping her, but someone else probably would have gotten another scalpel to the neck if they tried to suggest otherwise. They saved Laura, Kate died, and neither Talia or Cora lost a wink of sleep over it.

That was when Derek left medicine and took some time to get himself right. Kate had fucked with his life too much for him to just go on. He saw a doctor, considered in patient treatment, discarded it, but saw his therapist four or five times a week for a year. His family supported him through all of it. Derek was there every step of the way of Laura's recovery.

When he went back, into nursing this time, the panic attacks returned. Isaac and Boyd sat with him more than a few times. Boyd, having been in the military for a long time and being intimately acquainted with panic attacks, knew one when he saw one. Isaac, having been in therapy himself for quite some time after his childhood, was a silent pillar of strength. Erica was there with a cup of tea afterwards.

And slowly, Derek pulled himself together to become the man that Stiles met in the hospital.

So, if Derek wanted to wait, Stiles could wait. It wasn't so much to ask, really. In fact, the newest Marvel movie was out so if they needed a back up plan-

“Where are we going?” Derek asked, interrupting Stiles' thoughts.

“Oh.” Stiles said and blinked. “ _Oh_!” He said and laughed.

Derek stared at him.

“My place.” Stiles said.

“That's weird.” Derek said but started the car up anyway.

“Scott is with Kira. They went skiing for a couple days.” Stiles said.

“Did you sexile your roommate?” Derek asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“What kind of person do you think I am?” Stiles asked.

Derek looked at him.

“Ok, I might have said that you were coming over to stay and hypothesized that because you are naturally a reticent guy, you would be slightly more responsive in the event that more than sleeping happened on the inaugural event. Then I might have also said that under the right circumstances, you might also be slightly louder than normal.” Stiles shrugged. “Then all of a sudden, Scott is going skiing, and the girls have a spa weekend planned with your sisters and won't be over at all.”

Derek glanced over at him.

Stiles blinked at him innocently.

Derek had to laugh.

When they got upstairs, finally, Stiles was pulling Derek through the door and Derek was barely able to put the picnic basket down on the ground before Stiles pulled him into the room.

After having spent his fair share of time in Stiles' room, Derek was pretty familiar with the surroundings. He stepped over the rug that Stiles tripped over every time he came into the room and pulled him close, pressed his lips to Stiles, tasted that familiar strawberry chapstick, the beginning of a grin that was trademark Stiles when Derek kissed him.

Derek loved the fact that Stiles smiled every time Derek kissed him.

Stiles pushed Derek's jacket off as Derek toed his boots off. Stiles then pushed his shirt up and off and his quick fingers were undoing Derek's belt before his shirt had hit the floor. By the time Derek pulled back for a breath, his jeans were falling off his hips and Stiles was still dressed, jacket included.

Derek opened his mouth to say something but Stiles turned them so quickly that it was Derek that lost his balance and fell on the bed for once.

Stiles grabbed Derek's calf and slipped his sock off and then did the same on his other foot. Derek was momentarily breathless when he saw how graceful Stiles could be when he had a plan in mind and then Derek was completely naked, hard, and seeing stars when Stiles knelt between his legs and sucked Derek into his mouth.

“Jesus _fucking Christ_.” Derek said, barely able to recognize his own voice.

Below him, Stiles raised his fist but didn't raise his head from Derek's dick.

For a long moment, Stiles stayed where he was, and Derek was pretty sure that this was how he was going to die. Derek's dick had to be down Stiles' throat and he swallowed and Derek gasped and arched his hips and gasped, “ _Soy tuyo, soy toda tuyo_.”

Derek had to make a concentrated effort to speak in English but everything was so good and hazy and he had never-

“Stiles- Stiles- you gotta- I can't-” Derek was scrabbling at Stiles' shoulders but Stiles just caught his hands, led them to his hair and looked up at Derek.

He _winked_.

“Fucking Christ, oh my god, _Jesus joder_ -” Derek said and grasped Stiles hair and pulled him back gently.

Stiles went where Derek guided him and it was too much to see Stiles' lips around his cock, wet and red, the obscene noises he was making and Derek might have skipped over Spanish and gone straight to _French_ because things were tangled up in his head and -

“ _...il ne savait pas qu'il y avait une langue sur la terre qui pourrait transmettre-_ ”

\- to Stiles what he was feeling, what he felt for this foolish idiot that he had somehow been lucky enough to find, and Derek swore, in Italian, that he was in love, he was in love-

“- _era innamorato-_ ”

When Derek opened his eyes, the lights were dim and Stiles was shirtless, laying beside him and staring at him with those innocent eyes.

Derek would never be decieved by that look again.

“I'm not going to lie, I'm good, but I don't think I ever thought I would need a translator app in bed.” Stiles said seriously.

Derek opened his mouth and shook his head.

He couldn't speak.

“I knew you knew Spanish, fluent, but that was what? French?”

Derek nodded.

“What else?”

Derek furrowed his brow and thought for a long moment. “Portugese and Italian.” He finally said.

Stiles looked down at him seriously. “I will never let you live down the time I gave you such good head that you spoke in four different languages.”

Derek opened his mouth to protest but shrugged instead. “That's fair.”

Then Derek leaned up and Stiles met him halfway and kissed him and kept kissing him and there was a hint of Derek in his mouth and Derek moaned and pushed Stiles down and chased after that taste, wanting more of it, more of him and Stiles mixed up together, for a very long time, in all the possible ways that he could think of.

And Derek was a serious thinker.

Stiles even said so.

Stiles had taken off his shirt while Derek was unconscious (there really was no better way to explain what happened) and Derek pushed Stiles back and kissed his neck, his chest and scraped his teeth over his nipple and Stiles groaned and arched into the touch.

Derek pulled back, quirked an eyebrow at Stiles, and did the same thing to the other one.

Same reaction.

Arched back, huffed out moan, and a sigh.

Derek filed that away for later.

Derek kissed the scars on Stiles' abdomen, making him shiver, before pulling away and undoing his pants.

Stiles stopped him, “You don't have to. Like- if you aren't-”

“Oh, I am.” Derek said and slapped Stiles' hands away. He made quick work of what was left of Stiles' clothes and reached down and grasped him in a warm hand.

Stiles' eyes rolled back and he sank into the bed. This was the kind of trust Derek relished. Stiles knew that Derek would take care of him.

Stiles wasn't the only one with plans.

Derek leaned down and swirled his tongue around the head of Stiles' dick but didn't try to emulate whatever the fuck kind of witchcraft Stiles had worked on him. He knew when he was bested at something.

“So, I was thinking,” Derek said and pulled off Stiles' cock with an obscene _pop_ and observed the full body shiver that racked Stiles' frame, “That you could fuck me.”

Stiles opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling before propping himself up on his elbows. “I'm sorry, could you say that again?” He said.

“Fuck me.” Derek said.

Stiles tilted his head to the side and Derek had never seen this look. He was a fan.

“In Spanish.” Stiles said.

“ _Fóllame._ ”

“French?” Stiles asked.

“ _Baise-moi.”_

“Danish.”

“ _Rend mig_.”

“Holy fuck, that's hot.” Stiles said and he almost kicked Derek in the face in his hurry to get the lube and condoms. He offered Derek the condoms, but Derek shook his head. He had gotten a physical two months ago and Stiles had been through more tests than most humans before the surgery and had come back clean. “How many languages do you know?”

“Seven?” Derek guessed. “Maybe eight, I don't know, we can talk about it later.”

“Yeah ok.” Stiles huffed and looked from the lube to Derek. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” Derek said softly and crawled up the bed and laid down on his stomach. He felt Stiles' fingers on his hips, pulling him up. He went where Stiles urged, leaving his head down on the pillow. He felt Stiles' fingers at his hole, pressing, massaging, but nothing else.

“I like taking care of you.” Stiles said quietly. “I like when you give me that.”

Derek moaned and spread his legs wider. Stiles took the invitation, pressing in and there was the familiar burn, but it was a good hurt and Derek could feel something in his core loosen, felt his heartbeat quicken but everything was so good that he knew that from here on out, for however long Stiles wanted, Derek was there. Derek was invested, this was it, this was his forever.

“You are the single most beautiful person I have ever met and it's not the physical. Though that's not bad either, don't get me wrong.”

Stiles pulled his finger out and when he pressed in again there was another finger and more lube. This was going to be _so messy_.

Kinda like Stiles himself.

Like how he always left coffee half finished on the side table, how he left books everywhere (his sisters were now building there own library of the books Stiles left at the Hale house), how his papers looked like chaos but he was always able to find what he needed, how when he tried to change his own bandages, he used three times as much gauze as he really needed and Derek had _laughed_ , and god-

Derek was so gone.

“You're beautiful like how you are.” Stiles murmured. “The way you treat your patients, how you let Cora label all the muscles in your arm with a marker, how you help, and you give, and you're smart and kind, and buy everyone Girl Scout cookies-” There was an absence and then the warmth of three fingers, fucking him a little faster, a littler harder, “How you take care of everyone and love everyone and your stupid smile is like a rainbow when I am having a shitty day and like, you're my best friend and-” Stiles stopped for a breath and Derek felt him rearrange himself behind Derek and Stiles stroked his sides, “Ready?”

Derek nodded.

Stiles was silent as he lined himself up with Derek's entrance and pushed in.

“God _damnit_.” Stiles groaned when he was inside Derek.

Derek whined.

“I am the luckiest fucking person on the planet, I swear to god.” Stiles said and put his forehead on the back of Derek's neck. “If I can do this more than once, I can die a happy man.”

“ _Do it_.” Derek hissed through clenched teeth.

Stiles took a deep breath and pulled away from Derek's back and he realized that though they had barely moved, they were both sweating already. He pulled out and Derek felt the loss immediately and then he pushed back in and Derek clenched the sheets underneath him. It took him a moment, but then he was able to get back in the game, having adjusted to the feel of Stiles inside of him.

“Fuck-” Stiles groaned and then pushed back in roughly and Derek saw the heavens themselves.

“Oh god- yes- right there-” Derek said, straining for English so he could be understood.

Stiles pulled back out and then pushed in, groaned with Derek and then got his arms under Derek's shoulders and hauled him up, so that Derek was only on his knees, his back pressed to Stiles' chest, his ass clenching around Stiles as Stiles pushed back in, rough and hard, panting in Derek's ear obscene things that made Derek shiver and clench-

“Yes, fuck, right there, fuck me, fuck me right there-” Derek hissed and then he was coming, untouched for the second time and he was _yelling-_

This time, when Derek opened his eyes, he was on his stomach and Stiles was on his back, plastered to him.

“We made a mess.” Derek reported.

“You think that's bad?” Stiles murmured in his ear. “I haven't even pulled out yet.”

“Oh god.” Derek said.

“But its _our_ mess.” Stiles mumbled.

And yeah. It really was.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hit on your nurses. Don't be suggestive or in any way try to get a date or whatever. This is close to what I went through with my donation with the exception of the entire third chapter, but don't hit on your nurses. That's gross.


End file.
